


What The Hell Are You?

by TheFightingBull



Category: Supernatural, The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Doppelganger, Especially for The Walking Dead, Gen, Identity Reveal, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), No Romance, Not Beta Read, POV Dean Winchester, so lots of swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 23:55:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,815
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25094962
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheFightingBull/pseuds/TheFightingBull
Summary: Dean runs into his father, but it isn't his father. Could an Angel have brought John Winchester back? Was a Demon somehow possessing him? Had a John from another dimension stumbled into theirs? He isn't sure, but he's going to find out.
Relationships: Dean Winchester & John Winchester, Dean Winchester & Negan
Comments: 9
Kudos: 41





	What The Hell Are You?

**Author's Note:**

> Second time doing a crossover. I know this won't be super popular, but I loved this idea so much I had to write it out. Hope you enjoy. If anyone likes it, I might be inclined to write more.

Dean stared in surprise as he watched a demon stumble to it’s knees. It looked… odd, the demon. Deformed somehow as it tried to get back to it’s feet. He glanced all around him in the long hallway, confused where it had even come from. Was this some game? When he stepped closer, Dean saw why the demon looked so strange. It’s right fully black eye was popped out of it’s head as it made choking, mumbling noises.

He stayed back at first and heard a few cries coming from around the corner and a laughter that sounded like it was getting closer.

Dean frowned as he stared down at a large, disturbing dent in the back of the demon’s head. He hoped that the human within was long since dead. “What the hell happened to you?”

“Well that… would be me,” an impossibly familiar voice announced as a man stepped around the corner. “Be you demon or be. You. Man?”

Dean swallowed at the sight of his father, but it couldn’t be. Everything about the man felt completely wrong. John Winchester didn’t swagger, not like that. His old man might have worn leather jacket’s but not the way this guy did and besides that, John’s jackets had been dark brown as opposed to black. John certainly never would have worn a red bandanna around his neck and his father wouldn’t be caught dead with his hair slicked back, either.

And that smile. That cocky, shit-eating grin. John Winchester never smiled unless he _had_ something to smile about, and contrary to popular belief, killing random demons didn’t do it for him. Dean’s father was stoic and even tempered for the most part. It wasn’t until John Winchester was pissed off or irritated that anyone could see a crack in his carefully cultivated exterior.

But that had all been before he died. Before he sold his soul, before he’d be sent to Hell and before he broke himself free. Dean had it on good authority his father was in Heaven. A fitting resting place for a man who fought evil. For a man who was known as a righteous man.

“If Demon you be,” the man continued with his father’s voice, calling Dean’s attention back to him. “than I’m about to bloody the shit outta you just like this worthless pile of demon scum.”

With a sneer, Dean felt he understood. While his father could cuss and talk shit with the best of his former Marine buddies, there was an immaturity to the man’s vulgarity that Dean’s old man wouldn’t have used. His father’s body was clearly possessed by a real nasty demon or a foul-mouthed angel. Considering his experience with Angels, he was inclined to believe it was the latter.

Who else could raise a dead body like that? Who else would have access to gain permission from Dean’s father for such a possession?

It really didn’t matter whether it was demon or angel occupying his father’s former body. Dean would gladly dispatch the sonuvabitch from this plane of existence and then bury his father properly. He pulled out an Angel blade and took a fighting a stance.

“You look familiar,” the creature grinned with his father’s pearly whites, not seeming concerned at all by the weapon in Dean’s hand. “Have I tried to kill you before? No…” it shook it’s head in answer to it’s own question. “No because I don’t fail to kill anything I set my sights on. I must know you from somewhere else.”

“Listen asshole, I don’t know who you are, but you’re getting the Hell outta my old man’s body,” Dean snarled and started chanting the exorcism prayers that Sam had finally managed to make him memorize.

The man’s head reared back as he stared skeptically, though he never dropped his smile. “You’re shitting me, right? What part of my beating the fucking brains in of this drooling piece of filth makes you think I’m some black-eyed little bitch?”

Dean licked his lips as he tried again, only to hear the man’s mocking laughter. “Boy, you know what they call crazy? Do you?” the man whirled his bat once through the air before slamming the barb-wired end into the skull of the demon that had nearly reached Dean’s ankle. “It’s repeating the same dumb ass action,” another skull crunching swing and Dean couldn’t help but wince. “and expecting a new fucking result.”

There wasn’t a plume of black smoke that escaped the body. Just a crackling of lightning like when Ruby’s knife plunged into the chest of a demon or when the Colt fired a kill shot. More and more Dean was convinced that the man before him wasn’t really a man.

“Look,” Dean sneered. “I understand killing demons as much as the next hunter or angel, but you do realize that there’s a person in there, right? A person who _feels_ and _knows_ everything you’re doing to them!”

The stranger in his father’s skin offered him a half smile that looked more demented and crueler than when Yellow Eyes had possessed his father. “Well then I guess that makes them weak, don’t it? Guess they should have growed some big ole hairy balls and fortified their spirit to protect their bodies from being used as vessels, shouldn’t they?”

“You’re sick,” Dean spat, but decided this _had_ to be an angel possession.

No other creature could hate humans and demons so much as one of the angels.

The man who was so similar to his father stepped over the mess of human flesh and into Dean’s space. The “angel” stared so intently at him; Dean unwillingly found himself looking away. The man chuckled cruelly and with the tip of his bloody, disgusting bat, he forced Dean’s chin up, consequently forcing his eyes to stare up into the cold, hateful gaze of his father’s doppelganger.

“You really do look familiar,” the man insisted with that same smile. “Real familiar. What’s your name, boy?”

“You tell me, I’ll tell you.”

“Look at you wearing your big-boy britches,” the man laughed. “Actin’ tough like you ain’t scared of what the fuck I might do to your own pretty little head.”

Dean glared, not appreciating the fact he’d just been weighed, measured, and found to be some airhead just because he was attractive. Besides, Sam was the one with the long hair! Should he be the pretty boy?

“Now don’t get your panties in a bunch, young man. You’re a pretty boy. You know it, I know it, every man and woman whose laid eyes on you knows it. So don’t go acting like some insulted prom-night virgin.”

Taking a deep breath to calm his temper, Dean looked the man in the eyes. “My name’s Dean Winchester, _asshole_.”

The man’s smile dropped, as did his barb wire wrapped bat. His hazel eyes widened a touch as he took one step back and looked Dean up and down, this time a lot more carefully. When he did this, Dean noted that the man was a lot slimmer than John had been. Maybe it wasn’t his father’s body possessed by some crazy angel. It clearly wasn’t a demon… the exorcism would have done more than make it laugh at Dean.

So what the Hell was it and why did it look identical to his father?

“Well I’ll be the son of a monkey’s uncle, you really _are_ a Winchester, aren’t ya!” the man’s face morphed quickly back to that grin. “Are you one of John’s boys?”

Dean nodded. He didn’t see any point in denying it. Most everything in the world of the supernatural knew who the Winchesters were.

“I reckon he don’t talk much about me, seeing as how you look like your about to pee-pee your pants in shock.”

“He doesn’t talk much at all,” Dean sneered. “He’s dead. Has been for several years.”

Immediately the look-a-like’s expression was hollow as the smile fell. Dark hazel eyes watered as his brow furrowed deeply. The creature sniffed and sneered but didn’t speak just yet. Dean watched as the man tightened his grip on the bat. For a brief moment he was sure the man would take a swing at him, but instead he turned around started beating the formerly possessed human.

When finished, the creature turned to face Dean again. He could see specks of blood and gore in the man’s salt and peppered beard. It was hard to ignore, but the crazy smile had yet to reappear.

“Come, the fuck, again?” the doppelganger shouted toward Dean, it’s body trembling with fury and what Dean was beginning to believe was legitimate grief.

“He’s dead,” he repeated quietly.

The man actually let out an angered sob. “No. No fucking way!” He shook his head and leaned against the wall, staring at Dean the whole time as tears fell down his scruffy cheeks. “You’re a damned liar is what you are! Johnny wouldn’t die. He’s too damned stupid and stubborn to know when he’s dead!”

Tears burned at Dean’s own eyes. He hadn’t expected such a violent or emotional reaction from a stranger with his father’s face. Hell, Dean had never seen _anyone_ react to his father’s death in such a way. Not even Bobby. The man against the wall looked absolutely devastated. Like he might not ever smile that terrifying smile again.

“How?”

“He uh, he sold his soul to save my life,” Dean whispered.

Dean shivered as the man’s eyes narrowed on him, scrutinizing, and judging once more. Anger, grief, and agony were present in his dark gaze, enough so that for a moment, Dean forgot that he could fight back if the man attacked. That he didn’t _have_ to stand there and let the man beat him to death with his fucked-up bat.

“Johnny sold his soul for you?” the man snickered. “Sold it to keep you alive and kicking?”

Old wounds opened at the man’s oppressive presence. Guilt was so thick in Dean’s heart and mind that he was sure he’d drown this time. He missed his father. He missed the man more than words could possibly express and even though John looked so proud of him and Sammy when they finally killed Yellow-Eyes, Dean knew it wasn’t his father’s time to die. Tessa had more than made that clear when she tried to get Dean to go with her.

The man took a deep breath and proving once again to be unpredictable and a little strange, he smiled at Dean. “Well that must make you the most got-damned precious fucking thing on this whole crappy planet.”

“Huh?”

“Come over here and give your dear old Uncle Negan a hug, boy.”

“Uncle?”

“Hell yes. Your Daddy, John, was my twin brother,” Negan Winchester revealed with that same crazy smile. “And I’m betting you have one hell of a story to tell me.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading and giving this a chance!


End file.
